


these rocks don't lose their shape

by MistressKat



Series: show me your teeth [5]
Category: Telephone (Music Video)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, F/F, Ficlet, Girls with Guns, Gunplay, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:21:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Guns are a girl’s best friends.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	these rocks don't lose their shape

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some ficlets. [pushkin666](http://archiveofourown.org/users/pushkin666/pseuds/pushkin666) gave ‘diamond mask’ as a prompt. Result. Title from _‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’_ by the inimitable Marilyn Monroe.

 

“Guns are a girl’s best friends,” Beyoncé sings. The Sig in her hands is warm and a little slippery, like skin after sex, and she rubs the pad of her thumb over the handle.  
  
It feels good.  
  
Almost as good as the sight of Gaga, giggling over a tray of diamonds like a child at Christmas.  
  
She picks up one the size of a quail’s egg and lifts it to the light. “What do you reckon?” she asks, turning it this way and that. Even the wane sunlight filtering through the filthy overhead window makes the diamond sparkle. “Enough to buy the White House?”  
  
“That shack is cheap,” Beyoncé says, stepping over the bodies as she walks over. “You deserve better.” She wraps her arms around Gaga and the Sig ends up pressed against her lower belly, the barrel nesting in the junction of her legs.  
  
Beyoncé thinks about putting the safety back on and then decides against it. Gaga likes it better this way and truth be told so does she.   
  
Gaga lifts up the diamond again but this time she brings it to her lips and licks it. There is nothing childish about the way her tongue flicks over the sharp cuts. “Tastes like blood.”  
  
There’s no fresh blood on the diamond, none of the men now dead had been near the merchandise. But it’s not fresh blood Gaga is talking about, but blood so old it goes back generations, dark and tainted with greed.  
  
Beyoncé takes the gemstone off Gaga’s hand and tosses it away before turning her around. “You need to cleanse your palate, Lady.” She trails the gun up Gaga’s spine and thinks how, if she pulled the trigger right now, the bullet would rip through both of them and they would die together.  
  
Instead a shot, she offers her neck, stretching her head back and to the side and inviting Gaga’s mouth where she most wants it right now.  
  
“Honey,” Gaga purrs, and her teeth are like smooth pearls against Beyoncé’s throat.  
  
After, they search the place for money and arsenal, both of which there is in abundance – unsurprising, considering the type of business these men were into. There’s no hurry to leave, not this time, and so Beyoncé doesn’t protest when Gaga spends several minutes placing diamonds over the bodies. She uses them as weights to hold their eyelids down until every one of them is wearing a death mask that glitters and shines; stars of the deepest earth covering its scum.  
  
“You want to keep any?” Beyoncé asks, idly kicking a particularly large diamond across the floor.  
  
“No,” Gaga says, twining her fingers in Beyoncé’s and dropping a chaste kiss to her lips. “Already got my treasure right here.”

 


End file.
